


Just Another Beginning

by Florayna



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Humor, Light-Hearted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-08-31 08:33:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8571580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florayna/pseuds/Florayna
Summary: The Inquisitor is an intriguing woman, full of surprises and twists that Bethany Hawke can't help but be drawn to. In all her awkward glory.
FLUFF! ALL THE FLUFF!





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Bethany saw Skyhold, she'd been confused. And she had every reason to be.

 

There were Free Marches banners all over the grounds, Fereldan stained glass in the windows and golden Orlesian statues in the main hall, and to top it all off there were dwarven and elven decorations everywhere. This fortress was the Inquisition's seat of power, surely it should have been furnished to show that right? Not to be some... amalgamation of cultural decoration.

 

It was a week after she officially joined the Inquisition that she finally asked the Inquisitor about the matter, while they were walking back to their rooms from The Herald's Rest. She remembered with crystal clarity the smirk that curled her lips, how she ran a hand through her silky brown locks and sighed softly. "You know Josephine asked me the same question when I insisted on everything looking like this. I told her I thought the Inquisition decor was dull and we should spice things up a smidgen. Thaaaaat..." She said, pulling the word out as she gave Bethany a nervous grin. "-is an example of one of the few times I lie to my ambassador." 

 

Natalie had paused and taken a sip of the drink she bought at the tavern, hesitating for a moment more before she took Bethany's silence as a prompt to explain herself. "Because really I um, just did it because it felt right I guess. I- what I mean is..." The silence settled in awkwardly as she took another pull from her mug, eyes distant as the Inquisitor collected her thoughts. The next couple of steps they took had an air of suspense around them for Bethany, as she watched her thoughtful companion worry her bottom lip... and, maybe watched a little too closely, because she didn't notice those same lips part as the Inquisitor drew a quick breath to speak. "In the eyes of the people that join, I'm the Herald of Andraste, divine hero sent in their time of need. I am the Inquisition to them and it, feels like I'm cheating them out of the truth. I just wanted to remind them the Inquisition isn't one banner, or one person. It's as much them, and their lives, as it is mine... and I just now realise that was a very long answer, and probably much deeper than you were looking for. Sorry." The woman had laughed softly and shook her head at herself. 'Always ranting' She muttered, scolding herself with a pronounced redness creeping onto her cheeks.

 

Bethany hadn't said anything, because for some reason her heart was beating too loudly to think.

 

\------

 

It was a normal afternoon a few more weeks later, and Bethany went to the Inquisitor's quarters in search of company for the remainder of a rather dull day. She found Natalie leaning over the railing of her balcony, sipping a glass of red wine as she watched Skyhold. 

 

Within the next few minutes Natalie had pulled two chairs out and poured another glass of wine for Bethany. They talked about nothing in particular, first magic then dragons. Eventually they came to rest on the topic of the Chantry. 

 

"I never went to the chantry in the towns my family stayed in. Mother always fretted about too many templars. We did pray though; even if it was not half as devoutly as some of the Andrastians here." Bethany explained with a heavy sigh. "Not to say that I spent my nights regretting my 'lack of faith'. At least, faith in what the templars did."

 

Natalie snickered and lowered her wine. "I know what you mean. I went to the Chantry a few times before the circle. I don't remember much, expect being treated like a damned Divine. Trevelyan's have close ties with Chantry and all."

 

The Inquisitor smirked. "Only heir to the Trevelyan fortune. And I'm a mage. The amount of tongues I sent wagging, I might as well have stuck ram horns to my forehead and called myself a Qunari. Wait, that'd only be half as bad."

 

Bethany near choked on her wine, her sputtering quickly turning to giggles from the both of them. 

 

The afternoon faded to evening, and before either realised it was past midnight and they were still on the balcony.

 

By the time Bethany laid down to sleep that night, tipsy and exhausted, she found that she hadn't wanted to leave the Inquisitor's side at all.

 

 

\-----

 

Everything happened a little fast for Bethany to realise what was going on.

 

She, Sera, Dorian and the Inquisitor had been traveling across the Western approach in search of Quilbacks. Then something hit her head, and the next moment she had sand in her mouth and the world was spinning and she could hear Natalie yell something but she didn't know what-

 

Then she was on her back, and the sun was in her eyes, hands placed on her head which felt wet and why were her ears ringing like-

 

-Then someone slapped her. Not a hard backhand, more like a very vigorous tap!

 

Her eyes focused on Dorian's moustache, which held it's signature stylish curve. It took her a few moments, then she started giggling.

 

She didn't remember closing her eyes, or falling asleep.

 

\-----

 

When Bethany woke she was in a tent, the dull ache in her head making her groan. And she couldn't remember why.

 

She had laid there for what felt like an eternity, drifting in and out of consciousness until Sera poked her head into the tent. "Ah! Told you she'd wake up, cough up the sovereigns Culty-shit!" 

 

She grumbled and put her hands on her head, feeling the bandages wrapped tightly around. "Ow."

 

Next thing she knew Natalie was knelt over her, grey eyes staring intently at her. "Are you okay? Can you talk?"

 

Bethany nodded slowly, a confused smile slowly spreading across her face. "Well, yeah... Something happen?" 

 

Then the Inquisitor's lips were pressed against her's- then they weren't. 

 

But Natalie still hovered over her face, her cheeks considerably more red now as she gazed into Bethany's eyes. "Sorry." She said slowly. "You got hit in the head. Well, that was obvious, um, it was a rock. You were bleeding and it looked serious. But you're okay I think, I mean you woke up, we thought you might not, and then Hawke would come and probably hack me into bits then feed me to a dragon."

 

 

Bethany stared at her blanky. "Oh.... huh."

 

She raised her hand to Natalie's cheek and guided her back down for another kiss. Much to Dorian's amusement as he quickly took back the sovereigns he had given Sera.


	2. Convincing The Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course, when your girlfriend has the most intimidating and protective older brothers in the world, you're going to get a little nervous when he drops by and says hello.
> 
> "Maybe he'll only break a few bones?"

Inquisitor Trevelyan couldn't help the nervousness that seeped into her smile as Garret Hawke approached from the stairs of the ramparts, and enveloped her in a tight bear hug.

 

"Inquisitor!" He yelled, squeezing the smaller woman like a ragdoll and mussing her hair up with his gloved hand. "Good to see you in one piece friend."

 

"Oh- yes! One piece, kind of, important with the human body and all it's... functions." Natalie stepped back once she was released, and fixed her hair. Not that it lasted long, the wind was blowing it in every direction possible anyways. "Nice to see you too, Champion." She smirked at him.

 

Hawke feigned annoyance. "It's Hawke."

 

"Fine, then it's Natalie. Deal?"

 

Hawke pondered the offer for a moment, brushing his fingers over his facial hair.

 

"Deal."

 

Natalie grinned, resting her right arm on the stone barrier of Skyhold's walls. The former Champion of Kirkwall's visit had been anticipated by herself and her inner circle for a few weeks now. Everyone loved Hawke, even Dorian liked his witty sense of humor. Sera was particularly fond of his distate towards the Chantry and 'Noble tits' as Sera called them.

 

But now the plated man, carrying his greatsword around on his back like it was made of air, was standing before her and she felt like an outcast in her own fortress. Her hand were clamy, and the rest of her body felt like it was in a cold sweat. It was a delicate matter, doing what she was about to. After all, Garret was one of the most protective older brother's in all of Thedas, if not the most.

 

How exactly was she going to tell him that she, the woman with one of the most dangerous occupations in the world at the moment, was dating his little sister?

 

"Garret!" Bethany's voice came loud and clear, rousing Natalie from her thoughts. The mage ran up the stairs and up to her brother, then hugged him tightly.

 

"Bethany." Garret smiled, and closed his eyes as he hugged his sister. Which he did a considerable amount less roughly than he did the Inquisitor.

 

"How have you been? Is the inquisition as exciting as you hoped?" He questioned, still holding his sibling in a tight embrace.

 

"More than I hoped. Much more." Bethany spared a glance to Natalie as she spoke, with a smile that made the Inquisitor's heart melt just a little more for the other mage.

 

"And not all good excitement I heard. That Western Approach incident Varric wrote to me about..." The man leaned back and looked at Bethany's forehead, brushing her hair back as he searched for a wound, or scar, his brow tightly knit.

 

Bethany moved his hands away. "You need not worry brother, the healers were marvelous." She looked to Natalie. "Besides, the Inquisitor needs to speak with you. I'm sure she will be far more interesting than a no longer existent injury."

 

"Oh?" Garret finally released his sister and turned to Natalie. "Well don't keep me waiting Inquisitor! I'm not a patient man." He smiled, expecting some great tale of a dragon's defeat, or the Inquisition's latest triumph.

 

"Oh is... right! Right. So Garret." She began, taking her arm off the stone wall and tilting her head up so she could look him in the eye. "I um. Bethany. We, I mean to say her and I-"

 

"Bethany." Garret interrupted to babling mage as he turned to his sister, with a knowing grin plastered on his face. "Would you mind giving the Inquisitor and I a moment alone?"

 

"Hmmm." Bethany eyed him suspiciously. "Alright, but don't you dare ruin even a hair on her head. I happen to adore each and every one."

 

"You have my word." Garret grinned and turned his gaze to the Inquisitor as Bethany decended the stairs. She spared a look back at Natalie and winked before dissapearing.

 

And Natalie just watched in unexpressed horror as her safety net for upsetting Garret left her.

 

"I hope you're doing more than just sleeping with her, Inquisitor." Garret began subtle as ever, walking back to the spot he favoured on the stone platform. The view that reminded him so much of his balconey in Hightown.

 

"What? No, Garret it's not like that!" She exclaimed. "I-"

 

"Let me tell you a story Inquisitor." He interrupted again, planting his hands on the stone ledge as he leaned down. The imposing man glanced over his shoulder at Natalie. "No need to keep such distance between us. We are friends, are we not?" He quirked an eyebrow at her expectantly.

 

"Yes! Yes we are. Best friends even. Best of... yes, friends." She fade stepped to his side, then stood there stiffly.

 

Hawke chuckled, then looked back to Skyhold. "Indeed." He took a breath of the crisp mountain air, before he began his tale.

 

"When Bethany and I were younger, it was a few months before her fifteenth year, Carver decided he was going to sneak into a bar in town and drink with some boys a handful of years older than him."

 

"It was an hour after he left the house before one of the younger village boys came to our door and told us he'd seen Carver enter the pub. Father was sick, and mother was tending to him, so I went to drag my idiot brother home. But Bethany was having none of my going alone. So we both went, found Carver puking in an alley." Hawke scoffed at the memory, smiling to himself.

 

"Carver...such a foolish man he would've become. Anyways, we found him and started to lead him home when this huge – and when I say huge I mean this man was both taller and bulkier than myself – man decides to take a swing at me."

 

Natalie snickers. "And you beat the shit out of him?"

 

"Oh no. He gave me a bloodly nose, countless bruises and two black eyes before I even landed a punch. I was not much of a fighter in my youth."

 

Natalie frowned. "Then what happened?"

 

"Bethany happened. She picked up a wooden beam from the mud and whacked it on the back of the man's head. The thing snapped in half!" Hawke chuckled. "But the bigger they are, the harder they fall. He dropped like a sack of bricks. Meanwhile, little Bethany stood there with the broken piece of wood in her hand. Her expression Natalie, it was something between heroic and scared out of her skin."

 

"Ah, I know that look. You had the same one with those spiders in the fade." She smirked at him, and pushed the man's shoulder lightly.

 

Hawke laughed again, turning his face to regard Natalie. "Hush you, they were huge. And furry. Things with eight legs should not be furry."

 

"Right right. Suuure. Whatever makes you feel better about that squeal."

 

"It was -not- a squeal! It was a war cry!"

 

"I don't believe you."

 

"Fine. It was a squeal. A manly squeal." Hawke grinned. "But anyway, my point for telling you that story is, I know my baby sister can take care of herself. I like to say I kept her safe while we were in Kirkwall, but it really was her keeping my hide intact. Now what I want to know, is if you think you can put her before all of this."

 

Natalie looked at the man, confusion evident on her face.

 

"All of what?"

 

Garrent extended is gloved hand, waving it infront of them. It drew Natalie's eyes to the magnificence that was Skyhold, the grand stone structures, the loyal followers of the Inquisitions banners. "Oh, that?"

 

"Yes, that."

 

Natalie frowned, and looked at Garret. "I swear I thought you knew me well enough you wouldn't have to ask Hawke." She smiled, any uneasy nerves relaxing at that moment. "All of this-" She repeated. "All of it is going to end someday. Within my lifetime, hopefully. What I feel for Bethany, for the life of my I hope, won't. Garrest she's-" Natalie paused.

 

"Well. I'd go on a twenty minute speech about how amazing she is, but that wouldn't do her justice. She's perfect." Natalie spotted Cullen and Josephine chatting in the courtyard, likely discussing some stratigic move for the Inquisition.

 

"And I'll be honest. I'm still young and have dreams of glory- but fame and fortune don't keep you warm at night. Although I -do- want to build a legacy, to inspire some sort of direction in the uncertain time we have the pleasure of living in, I will not throw away the most precious spark of light in my life. Not for anything. Inquisition or otherwise."

 

Garret watched Natalie for a time, as a comfortable silence fell over them. Both of them pondering the Inquisitor's words.

 

Said peaceful silence was then interrupted by Bethany squealing and running up to Natalie, latching onto her with an hug. Later Bethany would confess that Isabella had taught her a thing or two about eavesdropping on conversation, but in the moment-

 

Garret snickered to himself as Bethany professed her own love for the Inquisitor in usual Bethany style, babbling almost incoherently all the key words in her thoughts. And Natalie, responding in kind, but managing to be more composed. If only slightly.

 

 

"Well. If either of you are listening, you have my blessing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll work on more chapters if I get some shock of inspiration! But for the moment, this fanfic is going on the back burner. Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> -Flor


	3. Need a hand? Make a hand.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SOME GORE.  
> So I'm back at it with an update for this ficlet because...
> 
> Not at all happy with how Trespasser ended. Just take the damn mark Solas! Not my whole arm!
> 
> ...
> 
> SOLAS!  
> SOLAS STOP IT!  
> GODDAMN IT SOLAS!  
> *insert reference to Obi Wan VS Anakin* 
> 
> So yeah, my Inquisitor found a way around that. There will be blood magic, and some pretty mild descriptions of it in this chapter. I originally wanted to go into more detail but these chapters are suppose to be more light hearted ^-^ 
> 
> Again! If there is anything you want to see, leave a comment with your request!

Blood magic had always intrigued the young inquisitor.

 

Of course, she kept herself from becoming too invested in it's practice. That sort of magic had a track record of corrupting those that wielded it, and the more gifted the mage the faster the fall. She considered herself just a little bit gifted. Having saved the world... lead an army... defeated a crazy god mage thing called 'Corphyshit'.

 

More than a little gifted, maybe.

 

However she did dabble into those forbidden arts here or there, always with her own blood. Just to test the waters, expand her knowledge. It was only the natural thing to do with how many tomes she'd read about this type of sorcery. Only today had it really become a necessity.

 

Natalie Trevelyan scoffed at the word. 'Necessity'. Perhaps vanity or pride would be better suited.

 

Because she stood now, in the middle of an absolute massacre. Almost three dozen bodies by her count, belonging to mercenaries that had been harassing one of the small villages in the Hinterlands. They'd end up dead eventually, a large bounty having been placed on their heads. Better that their deaths do more good than line someone's pockets... still, she took a moment to consider the consequences of her actions.

 

On one hand, she would cast the spell, and return to the mess which remained of the Inquisition. Hopefully, by the end of the week they would find new purpose. The world would certainly need them if what Solas was planning came to pass... and the Inquisition would need it's Inquisitor. Bethany would understand, wouldn't she? Blood magic was not inherently evil... and there was merit to it's use here. Because the alternative... well-

 

On the other hand, she would remain with only one hand. One arm, for that matter.

 

The choice seemed pretty clear to her. With a sharp breath, the brown haired mage steeled herself for what was to come. Very sticky blood, a whole lot of pain, and a side of overwhelming power... none too pleasant a situation. But perhaps it would be worth the risk. And if it weren't well, it was too late to stop now. The words of the spell began spilling out of her mouth, and her single arm raised to channel the spell.

 

A scene that seemed far too sinister for the kind hearted Inquisitor to be at the centre of played out... blood was drained from the bodies around her, limbs snapping into impossible angles as each was bled dry. It collected in a red, misty cloud above the mage, folding into and over itself as it grew. As the spell reached it's peak the cloud turned into a disgusting blob of red. And it fell, washing over the woman as in a single, powerful wave.

 

It didn't even feel like drowning, because water wouldn't force it's way down her throat as insistently as the blood did. The blood moved, almost boiling as it flowed steadily into her mouth, her eyes, her ears. Then it started to merge with the still painful stump that had become of her left arm. The veins form first, blood congealing and fusing into the delicate circulatory system. Next are the nerves, and in turn the bones. By the time muscles are beginning to develop the Inquisitor is on the brink of blacking out from both pain and suffocation.

 

When the spell is finally complete she collapses onto her hands and knees, groveling weakly out of a crimson puddle. The blood is everywhere. It's all she can taste, all she can smell, and wiping it away with her hands doesn't help-

 

Hands.

 

Natalie opened her eyes and saw her left arm, almost the same as it was before... pale skin, slightly tanned from too much time traveling under the sun, and a delicate yet steady hand. Except now it was covered in a layer of quickly drying blood.

 

'I should wash this off.' She thinks, as she struggles onto her feet... and promptly passes out from exhaustion.

 

Thump. Another one bites the dust?

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty happy with how it turned out- looking forward to writing Bethany's reaction though. Stay tuned!


End file.
